The Ron Weasley Chronicle(s)
by diva.gonzo
Summary: Auror Ron Weasley wakes up in St. Mungos with a terrible headache. Find out why Hermione wasn't the one who put him there or gave him the headache. (Guest appearances by Harry, Mrs. Hermione Granger Weasley, OMC, and Kingsley Shacklebolt as MoM) Rated T for harder language, flashbacks to other stories of mine, and Ron having his emotional cup overflow.
1. Being a Hero stinks sometimes

**Ch. 1 - Being a Hero stinks sometimes**

(A/N: In honor of Ron's Birthday tomorrow, I present this small gift for the reading community. A friend asked for a Ron-centric story, making him a Hero, with some action and little fluff or lemons. So, I give you this, and hope it's appreciated. – D.G.)

**Disclaimer: JK brought glory to Ginger Knights, but I do enjoy taking them out on occasion and buying them chocolate ice crème. Ron's her Knight, but he is fun to clap for. Plot might be mine but if she asked, I'd give in thanks. – DG**

Ron opened his eyes, seeing the white of the ceiling in front of him. The ceiling had water stains, making a bad collage with the pinprick holes in the fire retardant tiles. The bright florescent lights of the room hurt.

A beeping noise was above his head. _My head?_ _That's what's hurting._

He blinked, and the pain intensified. The nerves in his body slowly awoke, radiating from his neck downward. He groaned in slowly growing agony. His head hurting was the least of his problems.

He blinked again, and a set of soft blue eyes looked down at him. "Mr. Weasley? Are you waking up?"

"Bloody Hell," he croaked.

"You've been through a lot. Don't speak too much yet. Let's get you some ice to wet your lips."

The medi-witch put a small spoonful of ice chips to his lips, letting the cold course through his face. He saw the concern on her face, hidden behind the stoic professionalism. "What?"

"I can't say yet, but you're awake. That's a great start. I'll get a healer in here in a minute to tell you what's going on."

"Hermione?" _Blimey, I sound like a toad._

"Your wife?"

Ron blinked, nodding his head very gently. _Blimey, that hurts!_

"She's out in the lobby with the healer. I'll get him in a second. But first things first, are you hurting?"

Ron nodded gently again. Each movement threatened to make his head go off like a firework.

"Then we'll get you some potions to make it better shortly. Try not to move until I get back."

_I won't if I can help it. _Ron settled back into the pillow, falling asleep once again.

_Ron stood in the shaded corner of the lot, watching the warehouse bustle with activity. The extension ears were in place, listening for that one voice that the Aurors were hunting. Avery eluded the Aurors for four years before an informant ratted him out. Harry never said who tipped him off, but Harry also said that his source in the matter was impeccable. Not surprising, since Harry was, and always would be, The Boy who lived. It took another two years of tracking his movements back to Blackpool and a Muggle narcotics trafficking ring to get him snarled up. They had people in place, inside and out, waiting to bust him once and for all and put him away._

_Harry was hiding in the other corner, disillusioned. He was watching the men come and go from the warehouse at the other door. Harry had the lead, but Ron planned everything out on the mission. Few in the office knew, since they had caught the mole six months earlier. Roberts approved it; Jones signed off on it; Williamson was in the planning too, and Smith was the second MLS team leader. That was the extent of the planning base. Too many leaks too many prior times allowed him to escape the long arm of justice._

_They would have to be quick and careful, along with a team of obliterators for the Muggles were involved. Between the narcotics, which would be a life sentence for the Muggles, and for Avery and the other wizard he was working with, a lifetime in Azkaban since he was there the day of the Battle. Kingsley signed his warrant personally, the week afterwards. Witnesses said that Avery was responsible for the stairwell collapse, killing Lavender Brown in the process from her injuries and trauma from Greyback. Archibald Brown, her father, demanded the warrant for his daughter's killer – and thanked Ron at the funeral for helping exact vengeance on the other bastard who hurt his precious girl. Ron still remembered the slap on his face from Mrs. Brown, crying on his shoulder immediately at her terrible loss. The tears on his face that day were from anger and frustration. He vowed to bring justice for her killer. One paid the price, and he hunted for years for the other._

_Now, the ruddy bastard was within his sight, standing next to the window, directing the others inside. Their mole was relaying the information to them, was inside loading boxes onto the lorry, almost ready for delivery. Their pre-arranged signal: the closing of the lift door to the truck._

_The Mole dropped the door, and the Aurors apparated inside the building. "MLS! Drop your wands!"_

_Many a man tried to scramble away, finding the exits sealed. Spells flew across the room from the cornered men, trying to fight their way out of the room. Avery was vicious, injuring Aurors left and right. Within seconds, the MLS team was down, along with most of the smugglers. Whatever Avery did knocked almost everyone down._

"_Give it up Avery. Two additional teams of Aurors have the building surrounded and sealed. You're not getting out of here."_

"_I'm not going back to Azkaban. Neither of us are!"_

_The barrels Harry and Ron were hiding behind levitated out of the way, giving them a second to scramble from their place before the explosion occurred._

_They were covered in soot and hot plastic on their combat robes, barely avoiding the scalding material._

"_Harry!"_

"_What!"_

"_Keep me shielded."_

"_Are you mad?"_

_Ron grinned. "Quite possibly. Blame Hermione for it."_

"_What are you going to do?"_

_Ron schooled his features. "Knight to C7."_

_Harry blanched in understanding. "Ron, no."_

"_Just get my arse out of here before Hermione finds out I did this."_

"_You're barking!"_

"_I owe Hermione and Mr. Brown for this. Just save me when I pull this off."_

_Harry nodded, obviously unhappy about what was going to happen. "If you don't live through this, I'm going to kill you Ron!"_

_Ron flashed Harry a grin before turning back to the combatants they were facing. "If I don't – tell Hermione I love her."_

"_I'll save your arse just so I don't have to tell her!"_

"_Fair enough!"_

_Ron gripped his wand, focusing on the spot between the other two on the other side of the lorry, and spun. Five seconds later, Harry stood up from his hiding place, and blasted the truck tires, throwing the lorrie onto the side, and on their hiding place._

Ron opened his eyes again, and there stood Harry. Worry etched his face like a bad carving, and the bruises under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion and concern. "You stupid bugger. Don't do that to me again."

Ron tried to smile through the pain. "Did it work?"

Harry nodded. "It did. Avery's in the cells at the Ministry, and his associate is dead. You were a lucky bastard, you know."

"Why?" Ron whispered.

"The other wizard was Dolohov."

"Merlin's baggiest pants!"

"He hid in the Muggle world in Eastern Europe, hiding in plain sight, using muggle products to change his features just a touch. Not much, but just enough to hide. They only reason we know it's him is because of the wand. Ollivander identified it."

Ron settled his head back into the pillows. He started shaking, but hid his hand back under the covers, pressing his ragged nails into his leg.

"And I've been told by Roberts that you're lucky you still have your bollocks. He'd never approve that tactic. Other than cursing your name worse than your wife, it worked to perfection."

"It sure did!" bellowed the Minister walking into the room with two more Aurors in tow. "I don't know where you got that idea Weasley but it was brilliant. Bloody stupid of you to risk it, but it worked."

Ron looked at Harry, staring at him into silence. No one besides them knew that he already used the tactic once before with the same effect. Well, no one besides his wife, and she'd never tell.

"You're going to be on the front page of the Prophet in the morning and the recipient of the Order of Merlin first class once again. The ceremony for it will be in a couple of weeks. You've earned it, Weasley."

Ron blushed in the bed. "I wasn't thinking about being a hero sir. It's my job and it worked." He cleared his throat yet again. "I don't need another medal, sir. I was doing it to honor a promise."

"Nonsense. Harry told us everything, so you are in need of recognition. Those two were the last on the most wanted list from the War. You are a hero in more ways than we can count."

Williamson walked up, gently grasping his Ron's hand. He slipped a pendant in his palm. "That pendant was my Mum's. Dolohov killed her when they were hunting me that year. That maniac left a calling card for me on her body. He wasn't merciful, trying to torture her for information. I vowed that whoever took that maniac out would have her pendant in honor of her. Thank you for giving her justice."

Auror Williamson walked to the other side of the private ward, trying to take a moment to recover. Even in the brotherhood, it was hard to show the emotions that overflowed from time to time.

Taylor walked up, looking hard at Ron's bruised face. He struggled for a second, finding the words to share his memory.

"Avery tortured my Muggle girlfriend before leaving her broken at our flat. I found her, and got her to the hospital. She lived, but never forgave me for leaving her a target. I can tell her now that she can sleep in peace now that the monster is in prison. Thanks Weasley!"

Auror Taylor turned and went to the front door of the Auror ward, watching the hallway since he was still on duty. Williamson turned around, nodded to the minister, and slipped out of the room.

"So you think you're not a hero, Weasley?"

Ron looked at Harry, who gave him a nod and a huge grin as his answer. "No sir. I was just doing my job and protecting the rest of the team. Those two bastards were going to escape, and I didn't want that to happen."

Kingsley stood there, laughing in his bass voice. "Well, son, you've earned a promotion. You're both too valuable now to be on the front lines. It's time to teach the kids coming through now how to be as effective as you are. Besides," Kingsley looked out in the hallway before looking back, "I don't think I can handle your wives again. Worried witches don't make for a pleasant meeting when it comes to you two. Twice before is bad enough."

Both men looked at the Minister in concern. "Sir?"

"Potter, you're being promoted to associate director of the Auror Domestic division, reporting to Jones and Roberts. It's effective next week. You're on leave the rest of this one." Kingsley turned to Ron in the bed, who was sitting up a touch more. "And Weasley, you earned your promotion too. You're going to be teaching at the Auror Academy, starting next term."

"But, sir, I'm only –"

"Nonsense. You've accomplished more in the last few years than I ever did hunting down the demons that were the core of the last war. It's time to bring those same tactics you and Potter here use to make us better, leaner, more efficient, and better adapted. It's time the Auror Corps came into the new Millennium."

Ron laid in the bed, gobsmacked. _Promotion? Teaching at the Academy? Stable hours! Seeing Hermione every night! Maybe time to consider -_

"Uh, Sir? Speaking of, where is my wife? I thought she'd be here by now."

Harry smiled, and stepped aside. Hermione was asleep in the chair behind him, tucked inside Harry's Invisibility cloak and his outer robe. "We've been here a while, Ron, and she's knackered."

"What day is it?"

"Sunday morning. It's been thirty hours. She was sick the first day with worry – and the healer gave her a cheering charm. It wore off quickly, and she insisted on a second one, trying to stay awake until you woke. She missed you when you woke the first time, since she was out with the Healer trying to help them out. She crashed about four hours ago, and has been asleep since. The healer said that she needs her rest for the next few days, since he did two charms on her."

The men looked over at her, watching her sleep. Kingsley turned back first. "You might not say you're a hero, but I can tell you that you are for her. Everyone in this room has seen the way she looks at you. We know. You're also a hero for the other Aurors in the Corps and for me too. Take the promotion and the recognition. Get off the front lines and train the kids coming in. It's not every century that an Order of Merlin first class is awarded to a living recipient. Usually, the second one is awarded posthumously."

The other two Aurors nodded from their posts in the room. The list of dual awardees was only a handful – and only three dual winners were still alive. Two of them were in the room and they were best friends.

"Well, then, since you put it that way, I'll accept the promotion."

"I look like a poncy tit!"

Hermione stood in front of her husband, adjusting the tie he was required to wear for the festivities tonight. She stood there, looking immaculate in her maroon robes. He didn't care that he was wearing the formal Auror robes, or that all of the brass buttons were polished to illuminated finery, or that he was wearing, for once in his life, a pair of cufflinks. Even the shoes he wore were polished to elven standards.

"My husband is a hero, and I want him looking like it. You earned it."

"Being a hero stinks sometimes. I hate this. I rather stay home with you."

"Nonsense. This is part of being a hero, dear. Let others laud over you like I do. Let your friends and family celebrate your achievement. Let the world see you as a Hero. Feel the accolades – and the responsibility."

Ron grinned down as his wife while she finished checking his appearance. "Harry said being a Hero isn't as exciting as everyone thinks it is."

Hermione looked away, blushing, before returning to reply. "He's right, you know. Most of the time, it's a plethora of paperwork and a few insane seconds of courage doing the right thing. You know. You've been my hero for years." She stood up on her toes, planting a soft kiss on his clean shaven cheek. "But I also want to sit there, listening to the people applauding you for doing a terrific job. I want everyone to know that you're a Hero and you're my Hero."

Ron leaned over and put the cane in his hand from the doorway. He was still limping from the worst of his injuries, and would eventually recover, but walking on his rebuilt ankle was tough at the moment. The cast was uncomfortable, and it itched something fierce at times. Dolohov's curse breaking his ankle was the worst, before the explosion that threw him across the room into the concrete outer wall.

"You really think that? You think everyone will applaud me? No one will laugh?"

She stepped back, looking him over one last time. "I know they will dear. They were the last of the worst." Hermione stepped back up to her husband, looking in his slowly darkening eyes. "I went and researched while you were still in the hospital, looking back at the record and warrants for Dolohov. He was as bad as the Lestrange Brothers, if not worse."

Hermione's voice caught, and she blinked her eyes for a couple of seconds to regain her composure. "He was responsible for Gideon and Fabian. Kingsley confirmed it for me. The Aurors never caught him, even after the fight at the Ministry the first time."

Ron choked back the bezor that just lodged in his throat. "That bastard killed my Uncles? He was responsible for them?"

Hermione nodded. "Kingsley confirmed it for me, once I found out. I don't know if you remember, but he was the one who gave me the first scar, the one under the burn."

Ron fingered the satin material on her chest, tracing the outline of the scar under the soft material. The burn from Bellatrix overlapped the curse scar on her chest, but it was still there to his inquisitive eyes. He spent many a moment giving love and attention to that one, and the myriad of more on her diminutive body. "He gave you this one."

Hermione nodded solemnly.

"He killed Remus."

She nodded again, failing to stifle the rogue tear that coursed down her cheek.

"He killed my uncles."

Hermione nodded once again, not saying a word. She saw his vision was elsewhere, looking into memories not his own.

"Ron?"

He looked over her barely tamed hair on her head. He felt everyone's presence even if he couldn't see them standing there with him. He looked back down at his wife, seeing the emotions rolling over her face. "For you, and for them, I'll do it. I owe you and Mum that much."

She smiled, and put another kiss on his other clean shaven cheek.

"Then let's step out there and let the light shine on you."

"It gives me great pleasure to introduce our last recipient, and the guest of honor this evening. Many of you know the family name, and some know the man I am about to introduce. But let me share with you something from a night that was a nightmare."

Ron looked up at the Minister, and realized what he was going to talk about. Mortification rolled across his face. He felt Hermione's hand in his, warm where his was clammy. Out in the crowd, away from the dais, was his family: Each one of them beaming in pride for Ron.

Mum and Dad sat at the front of the table, flanked by Ginny and Harry, with George and Angelina on their right. Audrey, the Weasley family hero, was sitting next to her husband Percy and Bill. Fleur was home, too pregnant to travel for tonight's ceremonies. She also kept the rest of the little ones, what few there were, while the rest could celebrate.

"The morning of the Battle of Hogwarts, I was shoulder to shoulder with Ron Weasley. The fight was spilling into the Great Hall, and it was a nightmare. Chaos everywhere, and friend barely knew foe. We were there, directing people as best as you can in such a crisis."

"Out of nowhere came a bundle of black robes. Ron stepped into the path of this fiend, and intercepted none other than Fenir Greyback."

First, a gasp, then a quiet settled over the crowd. Years later and his name still was the source of nightmares and bedtime stories, to quell rambunctious children before bed.

"I looked over to try and help, and Ron Weasley was on his back, strangling this monster with his bare hands. Inches from being bitten, and here he is, holding a full grown werewolf away from him."

"I couldn't help, because Riddle stepped into the Hall, and I turned to take him on. At the time, no one knew Potter was alive. At that point, it was a fight to the death."

"While I was engaged with Riddle, with the help of Horace Slughorn and Minerva McGonagall – "

Shacklebolt point out to the table in the corner, behind the Weasleys, with a reply wave to Horace and Minverva.

"While the three of us were dueling Riddle, Mrs. Hermione Granger Weasley, along with Mrs. Ginevra Weasley Potter and Luna Lovegood, were dueling Bellatrix Lestrange." Somehow, the hall grew quieter. She was the other boogieman who haunted the nightmares of quite a few in the room.

Shacklebolt looked down the table at Hermione, seeing her determination and fierce pride for her husband, and the victors on the stage. A look of understanding passed between them.

"All of us were busy fighting for our lives. But in the midst of the chaos, Ron Weasley, along with Neville Longbottom, killed Greyback. Some say that Neville killed him. Other witnesses say that Weasley dispatched him with his bare hands. We'll never know. But the fact that Ron Weasley stepped into the line, protecting my life, meant everything to me. It wasn't what he did in the fight, but that he stepped up and made a choice and a huge difference."

The Minister cleared his throat, taking a second before continuing. "Ron Weasley is the same man now that he was then. He, along with Auror Potter, went into the raid to capture known dark wizard and outstanding fugitive Carlyle Avery. They went in, and within seconds, everything went sideways. The MLS team, along with the smugglers, was down, leaving Aurors Potter and Weasley to take on Avery and his associate. Under tenuous cover, and being inundated by a barrage of offensive spells, Auror Weasley risked his own life to capture the two fiends.

The Minister looked down from the podium to Ron, smiling away. _You asked for it,_ he mouthed.

"Auror Weasley singlehandedly captured Avery, along with his associate. In the process, Auror Weasley was injured, and the one injury he complained about most when he was in the hospital wasn't his broken ankle, or the missing fingernails when he splinched himself escaping. He complained that he slightly burned his chest from the hex, and it made certain things rather uncomfortable."

A chortle echoed through the banquet hall.

"I know we joke, but Auror Weasley didn't know until two days later whom Avery's accomplice was. None of us did. It wasn't until later through wand confirmation that Avery's associate was none other than Anton Dolohov."

The crowd went silent.

"Auror Weasley captured two of the most wanted fugitives on the list, and survived the encounter. But we're not awarding him the Order of Merlin, First Class, for the second time, because he caught them. He is being awarded our highest achievement, because by risking his life to capture the fugitives, he singlehandedly saved the life of twelve Aurors and MLS agents, in addition to saving all of the fugitives in the building. In all, he saved about 30 lives in total."

Kingsley took a sip of water from the goblet on the podium, looking serious for a second.

"What I am about to announce hasn't been in the papers, but will go public in the morning. What Auror Weasley didn't know was that Dolohov had a dead man's switch in his hand. It was rigged to blow the entire building. When Auror Weasley engaged the criminals, he destroyed the switch, neutralizing the threat."

One sob broke the dead silence in the room. Shacklebolt looked to his right, and Ron had his head buried in his wife's arms, overloaded with emotion. Kingsley knew he was sobbing, watching his shoulders shaking in his wife's embrace. He stood there a few seconds, letting the crowd watch the hero show his humanity.

The minister reached down and took his water goblet, drinking deeply while giving his Auror time to compose himself.

Ron looked up, his faced screwed up with his cup running over with emotions. He looked at his wife, who wiped the salt from his face, taking care of her Hero first.

"Divine or Karma or Providence, we won't question it. We're happy to bestow our highest honor on him, instead of giving his Eulogy."

Kingsley banished the podium, leaving him standing in the middle of the dais open for all to see. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Wizards and Witches, please stand as we honor Auror Ronald Bilius Weasley."

Ron stood up, wobbling on his rebuilt ankle, holding his cane in support on his left, bringing Hermione on his right. She stood at his shoulder, watching with pride, as her husband stood before the Minister

Ron stood there, dressed in his dress black Auror robes

"Auror Weasley, for most conspicuous bravery, daring acts of valor and self-sacrifice, and an extreme devotion to duty in the presence of a most vile adversary, we, the Ministry of Magic for Great Britain, award you the Order of Merlin, First class. Congratulations."

Shacklebolt placed the award around his neck, letting the Imperial Purple and gold thread ribbon lay flat against his dress robes. A quick handshake and Ron Weasley turned out to the audience for acceptance.

Within moments, the hall was engulfed in applause, all in celebration of Ron Weasley.

He stole a glance to his right, and watched his wife weep in pride. To his left was the Minister, grinning like a kneazle in the Creamery. They mattered, but not in the way he needed affirming.

He looked out through the spotlight and caught the eyes of his best friend, standing at the front of the Weasley table, clapping loudest of all. The rest of the family clapped right alongside him.

_Being a Hero isn't as bad as it could be._

_(Afterward: This is a one-shot for now, but I eventually will come back and write this as a multi-chapter story. I have too many stories going at the moment to devote more to Ron the Auror. –DG)_


	2. You call yourself a war hero

**Ch. 2 You call yourself a war hero?**

* * *

_A/N: My thanks to one of my betas, Nellark, for making me sounds like I know what I'm doing. You're a doll! - DG_

* * *

"Tom, four butterbeers, and two shots of Firewhiskey."

"Sure thing, Ron!"

Ron turned back to the crowd, finding his way towards the table at the front. The after-party for his Order of Merlin ceremony shifted from the banquet hall to the Fox and Otter in Ottery St. Catchpole. The family wanted a place to celebrate privately, once Ron was away from the official ceremonies. Tom the barman was pleased as punch to host the party for the Weasley clan, bringing out bottles of Ogden's Black Label for those who wanted beverages.

Ron sat down at the table in the back, sitting with his wife, best mate and his little sister. Weasleys dominated the crowd, from George at the bar, with wife Angelina next to him, talking with Tom about shop and business ideas. Poor Angelina was relegated to gillyweed water, since she was three months pregnant. Molly was elated about Angelina being pregnant – but not so soon after they were married. Mrs. Weasley threatened to hex George's other ear off for not waiting longer on getting her pregnant. Angelina laughed, telling Molly that it was those Weasley genes that beat the potion she was on.

That bit of information didn't stop Molly Weasley from trying to yank George's other ear off in the process.

Ron looked across the room and saw brothers Percy and Bill, along with Fleur and Audrey. They were talking with Arthur who was retiring shortly for the night. Molly went home after the ceremony and let Fleur come out to the after-party, trading off the three girls for the evening. Victoire was at the Burrow with Dominique and baby Molly, who was a month old.

Ron recounted his conversation with his father earlier in the day, before all of the pomp and ceremony. Hermione stepped out of the quiet room, telling her husband she would be back before he missed her. He laughed, kissing her passionately, and asking her to return quickly. She chuckled before leaving. _The benefits of the VIP room – enough to feed the Weasley clan a full meal. _

Ron was looking at the refreshments on the table, considering what to snack on before dinner before he heard the door latch behind him.

_Ron turned, wand at the ready instantly when he spied receding Ginger hair, glasses, and his own eyes looking back at him. He stowed his wand instantly, trying to calm down from his reaction. _

"_Dad?"_

"_Hi, son."_

_Ron stood there apprehensive. Arthur smiled back. "The first broom you ever rode was Fred's in his room. You were three, and you accidently broke it."_

_Ron took three long strides, engulfing his father in a huge hug. Auror training had filled out his lanky frame, giving strength of body when he previously had only strength of conviction. He looked down at his hero, his role model for being the man he wanted to be, and saw the pride and respect._

_Arthur pulled back, and took a moment to straighten his son's dress BDUs. He dusted the epaulets on the collar, turning the buttons down the front of his jacket, and straightened the pins on the high collar. One more step back, and he nodded in approval. _

_Ron was an Auror, a hero, but getting his father's nod in approval was all he ever craved. Well, it was growing up. Now, the approval of his wife was paramount, followed by his best mate, then father. He knew at work his wife trusted him above all else, followed a close second by Harry. That epiphany happened the day he received his badge, followed by the private celebration at home with Hermione. It was in those raw honest raw moments that her words of pride and approval finally clicked in his mind. Those tears he showed his wife were understood and celebrated, if only in private._

"_Son, got a minute?"_

"_Sure. What's on your mind?"_

_Arthur took off his glasses, wiping them on a kerchief from his pocket on his hip. Ron waited patiently, giving his father the time he needed to collect his thoughts. He was dressed in brand new robes, courtesy of Bill and Fleur. Harry told him previously that he and Ginny had quietly made the Weasley parents wealthy, giving portions of her contract to their parents. Bill oversaw their Gringotts accounts, and made them even more. Yet with everything they received back from their kids, they still lived frugally, modest my any Wizard family means. _

_Ron saw his mum earlier, dressed in a new frock from Gladrags. He remembered with glee when she Firecalled Ron the week before, talking of how she had a new wardrobe, and interrogated him to who paid for it. It was the first time in Molly Weasley's adult life she had a new wardrobe that she didn't make for herself. _

_He smiled, keeping the secret that they all made –all of her children paid for it. _

_Ron watched his father take more time for composing himself. He knew that Percy picked up the habit from Dad, but watching Arthur take those moments sent the lessons home. _

_Arthur put his glasses back on. His eyes were bright and rimmed in red. _

"_Son, you make me so proud. Look at the man you've become. You're an Auror and a hero. You got the girl, your best mate trusts you with his life, and you his, and you take care of your doting parents. You've earned what you have, in house and home. You have a great head on your shoulders, respect from your peers, and the accolades you've earned of your own actions. My youngest son is my Hero."_

_His father's words echoed in his ears, leaving him gobsmacked. He cherished this moment. It was just the two of them, with no one else there to take away from his father's profound proclamation. He loved that there were no siblings present to take the mickey from him either._

"_Dad, I –"_

"_No, no, I won't hear any objections this time. I know what you're like. I won't hear anything about it. Your mother might fuss at you for making a mess, or cutting your hair when it gets too long for the field, but she loves you as much as the rest. But you're my Hero, and you make a Dad proud to call you Son."_

_Ron's vision went blurry. He was speechless, hearing the one thing he craved from his Dad on such an important day. Tears fell, and he felt a second set of arms giving comfort, shorter ones that told him he was home._

"Galleon for your thoughts, big brother?"

Ron looked up at his sister sitting next to him. She was dressed in fine green robes, made to look like a model in a miniscule package. He grinned, knowing he could share his secret with her.

"Dad and I talked before the ceremony earlier, and he told me I'm his hero."

Ginny punched him in the arm, smiling the entire time. "Of course you are. You've been mine for years, you prat!"

Ron smiled while mentally quashing the niggling voice in his heart that questioned that assertion. That voice made him question everything he knew for a while, and it took even longer to overcome those doubts and insecurities. Only when he could defeat his boggart on the last day of Auror academy training made those doubts disappear. Harry had been there, along with his other friends, and they cheered him for defeating it.

"It's nice of you to jump on the bandwagon, Ginny. It took you long enough to realize it."

Ginny grinned back at her brother, smiling over her tankard of butterbeer. "Oh, now that you're a hero, you can be a git too? Brilliant!"

She threw her head back and laughed. It was as rich as her robes. Ron laughed right along with her.

"What's the punchline?"

Ron looked up, and there stood his wife and best mate. Harry had his own tankard of butterbeer, and his wife had a bottle of gillywater in her hands. Harry stood with an arm around his best friend, both smiling like they won the lottery. They all did that terrible day in May years prior.

"You are Harry. You got second place in the most beautiful wife contest."

Ginny punched him in the arm again, laughing the entire time. She slid from the bench, taking in her husband's warm embrace. Harry looked down, seeing Ron on the bench while he had his arms around two gorgeous women. Ron only smiled back.

"You can keep Ginny, but you have to give Hermione back. She's mine you tosspot."

Harry laughed and Hermione blushed. "You mean I can't have two birds on my arm. I am the Chosen One, you know?"

"Nope. You're a specky git and a prat so take your hands off my wife and keep the one you have."

They all laughed while Ron stood up to let his wife sit next to him in the booth, giving her a peck on the cheek. She slid into the booth while Ron took the outer seat.

Old Tom brought their tray of drinks, taking the empty pint glasses back with him. The four of them gave him custom once a week and he appreciated them entirely.

He left, watching the Heroes talk among themselves and watch the rest drift away throughout the evening.

* * *

The party slowly broke up around half nine, leaving the four in the corner laughing and being their usual jovial selves. Tom was wiping down his bartop while seeing the man at the end deep in his mead. Tom wasn't worried, since the man came in occasionally for a pint or two before toddling home. But tonight was different. He started with Firewhiskey and stayed with it. Within an hour, he was pissed. Old Tom didn't know how he'd get home on the other side of Stoatshead Hill outside of the village. Maybe he could ring someone to come get him. He didn't know the bloke's name, but anyone he didn't know he called Charlie.

"Tom, did I ever tell you I was a War Hero?"

Tom looked down the bar at the patron, watching him slosh his whiskey on the varnished wood. He knew when he saw a man hurting, and needed someone to listen, whether in importance or in grief. He didn't know the man well enough to know which it was tonight that was haunting him.

"Sure am Tom. I's there at Hogwarts that terrible night them years 'go. I was up on the battlements fightin' alongside them Aurors and helpin' those kids escape to Hogsmeade. I ain't seen scared kids until those kids were runnin' for their lives out of Hogsmeade. 'Course I went through, 'cause I needed to help. I couldn't stand by and do nothin' when that sod was making murder."

Tom looked over to the corner, and saw his four legitimate heroes quieting down, listening to his pontification. Curiosity showed on their faces.

"I ran through the town, seeing those kids running out like banshees were chasing them. I turned and ran for them – and saw the madness. There were spells flying all over, bodies flying. But it was seeing those sods hurting the kids who were left behind. I had to do something – and I did."

"What'd you do Charlie?"

"I did what I could – I started blasting anyone in a mask. There weren't that many of them out in the town, but just enough to keep the folks pinned down. So, I started blasting away. Next thing I knew, the spells quit falling. I couldn't figure it out to save my life. So while it was quiet, Rosmerta opened her bar and ushered the last of the kids in there, using her Floo to get those last few kids and the injured out of town in flash. Well, when she was doing that, one of those guys apparated right in the middle of us, and snatched Jamie and I heard him screaming when they apparated away. That bothered me terribly, but then the spells started up again, harder stuff this time."

Old Tom looked at the corner and caught flashes of emerald and sapphire and various shades of brown looking up at them. Harry tipped a galleon his way, telling Tom that he'd pay the drunken revelers tab tonight. _Good man, is young Harry._

Tom pulled the bottle of Ogden's out and poured him another measure, watching him slosh the amber liquid on the bartop. He downed the drink, and took the next one before downing it too.

"Well, Rosmerta took the last of the stragglers in, and shoved them out of town. Those that were left, which weren't many of us, looked around and saw that there were only a baddies left – just enough to keep us pinned into her pub. They had already incinerated Honeyduke's and set fire to Zonko's. Maybe they were trying to drive us out, for whatever reason. But they hadn't tried to set fire to her pub or at the Hog's Head. Maybe Aberforth was still inside serving drinks while the world burned. He would, knowing him."

Tom saw the Auror at the table slosh his drink on the table, and the fire in his wife's eyes. One word from the Advocate at the table shushed them down.

"Well, someone tried to snatch me from my spot, but I reacted and blew him back. He left a mess on me and on the wall that was behind me. 'e tried to snatch me from my vantage point, ruddy sod."

'Charlie' tipped back his glass, finishing off his drink.

"Well, the spells stopped again, and I made a run for it. I knew they were coming – and they did. They made a run at Rosmerta and tried to kidnap her. So, I blasted one of them and she got the other two. All I heard were the screams, then the painful silence. She and I looked up, and there were only a handful of us left. Rose looked at me, and I took off for Hogwarts. She stayed behind, hopefully to get someone to town to get reinforcements or some help.

Charlie looked at his glass, and frowned. Tom looked over at his patron's table and got a nod – so he poured one more measure, which Charlie pounded down.

"When I got to the gates, it was the stuff of nightmares: people down, men in black fighting others, spells flying faster than thought. I ran. But I kept running, stunning people wherever I could get a spell in. I hit one that had hurt a student, but I couldn't do more. There were spiders and trolls and blacked caped devils flying around there. It was a mess trying to get around the bodies that were lying around on the ground. I think I took out a troll running up into the school. Everywhere I looked was chaos and mayhem. It was madness."

Charlie looked down at his glass, and tossed back the dregs in the glass.

"I then saw one that made my knees buckle. It was that monster Greyback. He turned at me, and I froze. He smiled at me and ran at me. Merlin, I was so scared."

Charlie took a breath, trying to keep from wobbling on his seat.

"That monster had me pinned, snarling, while he tried to choke me to death. It was a struggle to keep him from sinking those teeth into me. G_d, he stank. That's what I remember most – the stench of the werewolf."

Charlie looked over at the beautiful witch next to him. Her warm chocolate eyes were inviting. "Oh please sir, tell me the rest of the story. I'm dying to hear what you did for that monster. He was so scary!"

Tom looked up, and saw the scowl on the other three at the table.

"Well, I was able to keep my hands on his neck, and somehow managed to keep his teeth away from me. He was taunting, telling me he was going to bite me, ravage me then go after my family too. He wouldn't kill them, but just infect the kids. He said he loved making the little ones, and I was nothing more than an impediment."

The witch fluttered her eyelashes at Charlie, encouraging him to continue the tale.

"Well, he had me on my back, and my wand was lying just out of reach. He snarled at me, and I rolled, grabbing my wand before blasting him away. He left such a mess. I couldn't believe that I killed that monster by myself."

The witch smiled and showed off her perfect smile, sliding a hand over Charlie's own on the bar.

Charlie smiled back at the young witch. "What's your name? You look familiar. Think I can buy you a drink tonight?"

Tom saw the smile slip from vacuous to maliciousness in a second. "My name is Hermione Granger-Weasley. If you want, I can introduce you to some others. Here, let me introduce you to my sister in law, Ginny Potter.

Charlie turned around and saw another beautiful woman behind him, standing in green finery.

"Ginny Potter was at Hogwarts that day, and later on, was the most valuable flyer for the English National Team in the 2004 Quidditch World Cup. She is also the wife of the Hero of Hogwarts, Harry Potter."

Charlie's smile dropped from his face. "You're Ginny Potter? The Famous Quidditch Star? Blimey!"

Charlie turned around, and behind him stood Harry. His eyes were dark, full of temper that was barely restrained.

"I'm sure I don't need to talk about his accolades, since everyone knows his name. But the one hero I am dying to introduce you to is Auror Ron Weasley, my husband."

Charlie made one last turn, and the lanky ginger Auror stood behind his wife, hands on her shoulders. He looked down at Hermione, and saw the other side of the powerful witch – the one that makes Muggles flinch. Her civil façade was gone and replaced with barely controlled anger.

"You're a fraud. You couldn't have been in the Great Hall that day. Your talk about fighting and bloodshed like it was something to celebrate, not the atrocity that we witnessed that day. You speak of details that I can't remember even after looking at my memories in a pensive."

Hermione stood there trying to keep from screeching like a banshee. Only her husband's hands on her shoulders kept her in check.

"Normally, I'd forgive you for your boasting and your story telling skills. But you stole my husband's valor and for that, I can't forgive you."

Charlie shrunk into his stool, cowering under the intense gaze of the dark haired witch in front of him.

"A real hero doesn't brag when they've had to kill in combat, nor do they brag when the blood of others is on their hands. But let us tell you what happened to Greyback on that terrible morning. Since you are a braggart, boasting about killing him with your bare hands, you should have your details right."

Hermione quickly recounted the details for the craven drunk in front of him, leaving no details out. Within seconds his face turned the colors of the rainbow, finally retching when she explained Greyback's demise. Ginny did a quick spell, cleaning the mess. Tom gave her a nod of thanks.

The other three left Hermione standing at the bar.

When Charlie looked up, the same witch was standing in front of him, like a Sphinx. "Now, Harry has paid your bar tab, but you stink of cowardice. I don't abide by them, and certainly won't listen to it again. Go home, and decide if you want to be a hero, or just sound like one. If I see you again, I hope you can tell me that you are a role model to at least one person in your life."

Hermione stepped back, and left the retch on his chair. A pair of heartbeats later, and the drunk stumbled from his seat, running for the door and out into the night. She frowned, watching the man leave before turning back to the booth with her loved ones.

Ron scooted back into the bench, eyeing his wife before breaking out into a grin. "Blimey love, why did you let him go?"

Hermione settled into the hug her husband offered. "He was harmless, looking for comped drink. He got what he wanted. He's an alcoholic, and a poor one at that. He wanted to feel important, but wasn't. So, instead of ruining him, I held back and told him what he could do so he was a hero rather than stinking like Lucius Malfoy. That's why he ran – because we humiliated him, rather than harming him."

Hermione sighed. "Dumbledore was right. There are worse things that death: dishonor, deceit, and disrespect. I hope he learned the lesson I gave him tonight."

Ron leaned over, kissing his wife on the cheek. Harry and Ginny grinned. "Well, I'm proud of you honey. I rather you deal with him. I'd have tossed him from the bar on his bum if I handled it."

Harry smirked. "Some hero you are, letting your wife handle the dirty work."

"Well, she is considerably better at dealing with messes and cowards than I am. I just punch them in the face. She's harder, making them think and quietly humiliating them." Ron looked at his wife, smiling at her, the private one he saved for her. "She's a nightmare, and needs to get her priorities in order. But she's mine, as scary and brilliant as that is."

Hermione smiled. Ron grinned back.

"And on that note, does anyone want anything else tonight? It's been interesting enough as it is."

Harry looked at his wife, seeing her smile turn. He looked at his sister and best mate across from them. They were in their own little world already.

"Ginny, I think it's time we went home. Those two are making me sick."

Ginny grinned, threading her hand into his. "Yeah, those two heroes are atrocious. I don't want to get sick too."

Harry grinned. He knew from experience that he wouldn't get another word out of them.

He stepped up to the bar and handed Tom ten galleons. "We owe you anything else Tom?"

"Nope Mr. Potter. Your bill is paid in full. If those two get anything else tonight, I'll talk with you next week."

"You're a good man Tom."

"And so are you, Mr. Potter. Good Night, Mrs. Potter."

"Good night, Tom."

The happy couple stepped out of the bar into the night, leaving the Heroes on their bench in the corner of the pub.

Tom smiled, knowing that they wouldn't notice the other couple's absence for a while.

_Heroes should get the girl. That one certainly did._

* * *

Additional note: This chapter was inspired by a picture I saw when I was doing research - and figured Wizards and Witches wouldn't be immune from such things either. - DG


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